Turkey

‘An easy hitch’ is what I write on Instagram, it’s just 300 km to Belgrade

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I’m glad that the sun outside of Sofia isn’t as strong as it was in Turkey

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It’s weird, these cars passing by for over 4 hours look familiar

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It’s Berlin, Augsburg, Chemnitz and Köln, it’s German number plates. All the Turkish-German families are on their way back, Eid al-Adha is over. Is it time to hitch hike back to Germany? Is it time to hitch hike BACK home?

Monday, 2 days earlier, 1 PM. I am standing on a highway, the highway that leads out of Istanbul. I meet Müca, a Turkish hitch hiker. We trade some food, I get weird bubblegum in exchange for an apple. A classic hitch hiker meeting. We decide not to hitch together, since 2 men isn’t exactly what most lifts are looking for. A few lifts later we end up in the same car anyway. Like I said, a classic hitch hiker meeting. We split up near the Turkish-Bulgarian border and a few hours later, I find myself standing on a Bulgarian highway 300 km east of Sofia. The sunset allows for a beautiful scenic view, but it also worries me. Hitch hiking on a highway in the dark? I might not make it to Sofia. Once again I realize, that I should get up earlier next time but yeah, I am a lazy bitch.

Luckily I get a lift that brings me to a petrol station 200 km further west. From there I get my first lift in the dark. A sketchy looking dude with black clothes standing on the end of a petrol station at 11 PM? I did not set my hopes too high, but 3 Serbs help me out. ‘You do not have cocaine with you, do you?’ Classic joke. They also drink beer and share some with me. I am back in Eastern Europe. Bulgarian beer, cranked up 2Pac music and even some Modern Talking. Guess that’s all you can ask for at midnight. I arrive in Sofia at 1 AM.

Lauren welcomes me with some Chinese food. I met her in Jordan and she offered me a couch as soon as she read about me traveling through Sofia. My 3rd little reunion after Jasmin in Italy and Inbal in Jerusalem. We both leave on Wednesday, she takes a cab to the airport, I walk towards a petrol station outside of Sofia. And by the way, I actually had a 4th reunion in Sofia. Do you remember the Bulgarian couple who drove me from Cappadocia to Istanbul? The one with the car breakdown? Yes, they guided me through the Bulgarian cuisine while my host Lauren was passing her last exam.

Guys, are you ready for a long ride? You’re allowed to fasten your seat belt this time. People in Europe don’t take it as an offense.

0/2000 km– ‘The turning point‘, Sofia – Wednesday, 1 PM

These German number plates make me realize how much I’m looking forward to see my family and friends in Germany. They make me realize that I am ready to go back. A dude standing in Bulgaria with a ‘Germany‘ cardboard sign. Considering the amount of German cars I expected it to be a safe bet. I was convinced of someone picking me up. I was wrong. If you want me to teach you something about hitch hiking: Never take a lift for granted.

It takes me 5 hours to get a lift to the border. Not one of the Germans, but a Serbian guy coming back from work. There are hundreds of cars waiting at the border station, lining up to continue their journey. 90% of them are from Germany. I walk through and continue hitch hiking on the Serbian side. I am still optimistic. 5 hours later I call it a day and set up my tent.

60/2000 km – ‘A new day’, Bulgaria-Serbia border – Thursday, 9 AM

I am motivated and decide to drop my hitch hiking sign. Maybe ‘Germany’ was a bit too optimistic. I am a little bit angry because none of the German-Turkish people stopped for me. Especially since my experiences in Turkey were simply outstanding. I guess living in Germany changes people. I will wait for another 6 hours. 6 hours until a car with a German number plate pulls over. A lift to Germany! Before I let you know how fucked up this lift actually was I wanna say thanks to these 3 Turkish truck drivers. They were waiting on the other side of the road and invited me over for some breakfast. That’s exactly how I remember Turks. It’s these moments that cheer you up, even after waiting for more than 10 hours.

We stop at a petrol station to get some rest. We hang around for an hour, drink coffee, use the Wifi and smoke cigarettes. Then, all of a sudden, things get weird. We go back to his car and that Turkish dude abruptly gropes my legs. ‘Dude, what the fuck are you doing?’ – ‘Sorry Daniel, but you have to leave here.’A weird ending for a lift in general and an even more disappointing one for a lift to Germany. At least the patrol station is still busy and I can keep on asking people for a lift. I ask them in German. Almost everyone is German. No luck.

I decide to get some rest, I have been up for 18 hours already. I sit down at a table in the patrol station. Hmm.. I could actually just put my hitch hiking sign in front of me on the table. Maybe someone will wake me up and offer me a lift. I’m an optimist, but even I don’t believe that this could ever happen. I close my eyes and someone wakes me up 3 minutes later. Angels don’t always have blond, curly hair and halos, sometimes they appear as a skinny Serbian man. ‘I am driving to Germany and I’m tired, I need someone to talk. Wanna join’?

Darko, that’s the name of my savior. We drive together for 14 hours. We both stay awake during the whole drive. Countless coffee breaks, cigarettes and a 2 hour long police examination in Germany. We both actually drive.As soon as someone gets too tired we just switch seats. It’s funny, in these last 2 days approximately 1000 German/Turkish people passed me. They were all on their way back to Germany. In the end it’s none of them, but a Serbian, 28 years old guy who lives near Leipzig. I felt touched when he called me yesterday to ask if I made it back home safely.

Martin, my second truck driver but my first one who speaks English. I’ve been awake for more than 30 hours but still, we were continuously talking during our 2 1/2 hour lift. And he gladly answered all the question I had. Did you know that trucks can’t drive faster than 90 km/h in Europe? Their trucks are curbed. Consider that when you complain about them driving freaking slowly next time. By the time our lift ends, I’ve been awake for 38 hours, I set up my tent and lapse into a coma.

1950/2000 km – ‘Almost there’, Saarbrücken – Saturday, 2 PM

My first lift, a young girl who’s fighting depressions, brings me to Mainz. While walking towards my next hitch hiking spot I notice a SB number plate on a petrol station. I talk to the young dude who’s driving home with his pregnant girlfriend and he immediately offers me a lift to Saarbrücken. His car has 580 horsepower, definitely a new personal record.

2000/2000 km – ‘A worthy ending’, Bergweiler – Saturday, 3 PM

I told only 2 people that I’m gonna arrive early. My family and friends were expecting me 1 week later. Both friends offered me to pick me up, but it felt wrong. I wanted to hitch hike all the way back. Many people can not believe how lucky I always am, and neither can I. I stand near the highway entrance, wait for 5 minutes and someone starts talking to me from the back. ‘Fuck Daniel, what the hell are you doing here?’ – A couple that lives in the same tiny village as I do, a village with 600 citizens. I get a straight lift to my home.

Tears and speechlessness are the results of my little surprise. I am back home! I am reunited with my family and my friends. It feels amazing and weird at the same time, it feels unreal. On this trip I’ve learned to enjoy the moment and that’s what I do. I know I’ll be gone again soon but that’s something I’m gonna dismiss for the next few days.

I am proud. For the first time, I am proud of myself. I’ve had many reunions in the last 2 days but there is plenty left. When I think about the last 5 months I feel like I did something great. I met people who changed my life and I’m sure I had an impact on some of them as well. I hope I did show you, how beautiful people can be and how dumb most of our prejudices actually are. It was a long way home and I am not just talking about these last 2000 km. It was a long way from the start and it will be a long way home once again. But this is life, isn’t it? It’s a long way full of obstacles and gravel roads. Full of junctions and exits. It includes traffic jams and fast lanes. And it is full of surprises. Besides some contingencies that are floating around in my head recently, there’s one thing I know for sure. I’ll stand on the road again pretty soon, I’ll start my way back home once again.

Someone once told me a story about rainbows. Apparently you change genders if you walk to the beginning. I guess that’s as likely as finding gold goblins but anyway, I think rainbows are something beautiful. Something mysterious that connects two places. Something that conjured a smile on my face on the day I arrived back in Bergweiler.

It is 10 PM. The wind is howling and I find myself searching for shelter behind one of the big trucks. I am standing at a patrol station. My backpack, my red bag, everything is gone. Even rolling cigarettes becomes a challenge as a result of both, the stormy weather and the cold temperature. I’ve met some people who got mugged while traveling, did this just happen to me? No way… I don’t wanna believe that. I can’t imagine this Bulgarian couple had any bad intentions.

I cast my eyes to the dark sky, inhale the smoke of my cigarette and wish that I am not wrong. Salam alaikum.

1 week earlier I arrived in Kayseri. ‘What are your plans for this city?‘ did Mesut ask me prior to my arrival. ‘Well, I wanna see the air balloons and all that shit, you know?‘ – what kind of question is that, seriously – Turns out Kayseri has nothing to do with Cappadocia – it’s just big city in the same area. Same area means 100 km far from it. In case you are not aware of it, Turkey is freaking huge. Was it a mistake to request Mesut? Well, to be honest, this turned into one of the best couchsurfing experiences I’ve ever had.

What makes a Couchsurfing experience special? Usually it’s either overwhelming generosity, some special achievements or unique, local events you get into. This surf had it all. Even Jordy Smith would be jealous.

Unique, local event

A wedding. I’ve heard heaps stories of travelers getting invited to weddings and this time it was me! I got invited to a traditional Muslim wedding of Mesut’s cousin. No people shooting guns in the air, no people dancing in a weird way but it was special for sure. Both genders were strictly separated during both days, even for dinner and people were substituting alcohol with the most common Turkish drug. Tea! When the bridal couple walked in, the whole procedure was shown on a movie screen, accompanied by some epic orchestral music. Unique indeed. Unfortunately they asked me not to upload a picture with the bride. But lemme tell you, she looked beautiful even though I had to get used to a head scarf wedding dress.

Special achievement

‘It’s a dangerous mountain’. Yeah yeah, fuck off. I am optimistic, some people might call it careless. Anyway, I convince Mesut and his cousin Ahmet to join me. A 4000 meter summit, an old volcano. And I must admit, I underestimated this mountain. But once again, I got lucky. We run into an organized traveling group on our first night and got invited to join them. Their leader attended the same wedding as we did. They help us out with water and guide the way up. A challenging one, especially since we start hiking at 2 AM. 13 hours later we’re back at our car. Dirty, exhausted and a bit smelly. But we did it, we fucked this puppy, we reached the summit of mount Erciyes!

And by the way, I made it into the Turkish version of CNN News. By the time we came back from our hike we got welcomed by some news reporters. A German guy who tells about his wonderful time in Turkey?That was all they were waiting for. This is me trying to be serious with my personal translator, Mesut.

Overwhelming generosity

I stayed with Mesut and his family in their summer house and I did not feel like a guest. I felt like a family member.That’s the biggest compliment I can make. His young brothers were a shit load of fun, doing weird fancy handshakes with me about 20 times a day, his mother and sister cooked tasty local food and his father kept on supplying me with cigarettes. Also his friends were great company even though they barely spoke any English. One of them said something that touched me quite a lot. Mesut translated it in the following way:

‘He said that he usually does not like it when I bring Couchsurfing guests because they don’t speak Turkish, but Daniel is fucking cool, please bring more of these Surfers‘ – Alright, he did not say ‘fucking’ – That’s just me giving it a personal touch.

I came to Kayseri by mistake and I almost dropped a tear when I left this great family. This is what traveling is about. I’ll get a fast lift to Cappadocia. They have a water boiler in their car to make some more Turkish drugs. Some more Tea. Unfortunately our little tea gathering is about to get crashed. A short moment of inadvertence and our car leaves the highway, hits some traffic poles and drifts back onto the road. We stop on the hard shoulder. We escaped with no more than a fright.

Cappadocia. There is actually not much to say about this place. It’s simply beautiful. I hitch hiked around the area for 2 days, had a great Couchsurfing host, got my first lift on a motorbike and enjoyed a sunrise with more than 100 hot air balloons. There is one thing I wanna talk about though. I wanna talk about Beysim and Trayana, a Bulgarian couple I met on my first day, while walking through a valley. Beysim worked in Germany for 2 years and has Turkish parents. Our conversations are a mix of Bulgarian, Turkish, German and English language. I’m sure we left some confused people behind us. They offered me a lift to Istanbul on Wednesday night, a lift in their VW Touareg, a lift I obviously did not refuse.

At 10 PM their car starts making weird noises. We stop at a patrol station. Beysim talks to some Turkish people and one of them wants to join them for a ride. Everything happens fast, ‘Wait here Daniel – we drive 5 km and come back’. And they are gone. I wait for an hour without anything and a weird feeling arises. Did something happen to them? I don’t wanna think about that. They did not just drive away with all my stuff, right?I am 100 percent sure they did not but at the same time, I met people who told me some fucked up stories. But still, this couple was so friendly and generous, I can’t believe they had any bad intentions.

Fortunately I have some phone data left and I feel relieved when they give me a call on Facebook. ‘Big Shit Daniel, someone will come and pick you up’ – That’s it. It’s windy and it’s cold. I join the guys inside the petrol station to stay warm. They have no idea what I am doing and I can’t explain it to them. They offer me tea. Another hour passes by until someone shows up at the patrol station and gives me a lift to the city where the Bulgarian couple awaits me. I can’t describe how happy I was to see them again.

It turns out that this guy, who joined the car to hear the weird noises, brought them to a car workshop and called a friend who also called some friends. At 11 PM 7 Turkish people gathered together and fixed the car within an hour. I could not believe it. A workshop team composed of friends and cousins just fixed it. They helped us outside their working hours, they decided to fix our car instead of spending the evening with their families and friends. One of these Turkish guys lives in Vienna, Austria. To be honest, finding a Couchsurfing host for Austria was nothing I would have expected from a Car workshop somewhere in the mittle of Turkey at 11 PM but well, it happened.

We arrived in Istanbul at 10 AM. I am still still exploring the city and enjoy the company with my host and his other Couchsurfing guests. Our conversations are most likely about porn movies ideas that involve yoghurt, racist statements and dick-measurement contests with our passports.Exactly my cup of tea. We also celebrated Bairam yesterday, one of the most important days for Muslim people.

Salam Alaikum is how you greet Muslim people. I’ve learned that in Jordan and could make good use of it in Turkey. Be careful, Turkey is dangerous right now is something I’ve heard a few times before I actually went to Turkey and I think it’s true.Dangerous in a different way though. You might fall in love with it and never ever leave again. I met some travelers who ended up staying in Turkey and I totally understand them. This country has it’s own magic and the Turkish people I’ve met, the ones that helped me out, the ones I stayed with or even just the ones who invited me for some Turkish delights simply blew my mind. I am sad to leave this country, and I am afraid that this might be the last time I will use Salam Alaikum.

It’s also my last blog post before I’ll be back in Germany. I am gonna start hitch hiking on Monday. It’s Sofia, Belgrade, Budapest, Vienna and Bergweiler. I have exactly 10 days to get back right on time for my sisters birthday. It’s the first time that I’m in a rush, the first time I have a fixed date, the first time I’ll see some familiar faces. I’ll be back with Post #25 as soon as I get back to Germany and don’t be sad – I’ll just stay home for about 10 days and hitch hike to Scandinavia afterwards.

And just in case someone will ever greet you with Salam Alaikum, I wanna teach you how to respond.

In the course of my last 22 blog posts I shared stories about friendship, loneliness and love. Stories about generosity, my opinion on religion, I gave some moral advice and tried to prove people’s prejudices wrong. This time my post is all about hitch hiking. I hitched 1500 kilometers in 1 week, that’s a personal record. Take my hand, join me hitch hiking from Georgia to Turkey but please, don’t fasten your seatbelt. People over here might find that offensive since it indicates that you’re questioning their driving skills.

It’s Friday morning, the 18th of August. Alvani, Georgia to Trabzon, Turkey. It’s 700 km according to google maps. And it will take 11 hours according to google maps. Well, seems like it’s gonna be quite an adventures road. It’s 11 AM when I start putting up my thumb. 2 minutes later I sit in a car. My driver pulls over at a tiny shop, disappears for 2 minutes and comes back with a Red Bull – or let’s say with a Georgian fake version of it. This is something that happens quite often. People try to be nice and buy you random stuff. A Red Bull at 11 AM is definitely nothing I’d usually do, but I’ve learned not to reject anything. I don’t wanna be disrespectful. I drink it.

Another 2 minutes and my second lift stops. A taxi driver – I got used to it by now. Sometimes you get free lifts even by taxi drivers. My 3rd lift drives a little truck. He started honking like a madman when he saw me walking on the road in Tbilisi, searching for a good hitch hiking spot. This lift will last 3 hours and will include overtaking manoeuvres like you would expect them from Vin Diesel, 2 sorts of ice cream, a coke and an interesting goodbye gift. A roadworkers jacket in yellow signal color.I have to laugh and reject. That’s something I can definitely not squeeze in my backpack neither would it be any useful.

My 4th lift speaks German and wears a football shirt of the German national team. Broken German but we can communicate a little bit. He lived in Germany for 2 years. It’s always interesting to ask why. Most people worked there, quite a few people smuggled weed from the Netherlands and passed Germany on their way back and some guys have pretty unique reasons. I had a Jewish lift in Israel who told me about him visiting Germany once a year. “Why?” – “To remember his family members who got gassed during the second world war”. Painful swallowing.He tells me he loves Germany.Relief.David, my Georgian lift, went to Germany for another unique reason. One of the most evil things in this world. He went there because he had cancer. Apparently he earns good money and could afford a treatment in Germany. It took him 2 years but he defeated the cancer, and he’s convinced that he would have died if it wasn’t for the German specialists. It makes me happy and sad at the same time. What about the average Georgian citizen who lives of a 300€ per month salary. I don’t wanna think about it.

My 5th one is a short one but they make me listen to Rammstein as soon as I tell that I’m from ‘Germania’. I like Rammstein. The 6th lift is a young Russian couple. They are traveling in an old car, share food with me and try to convince me of god. He is real and I have to visit this monastery in Russia. I will understand. Of course I will. I leave them in Batumi, a city on the West coast of Georgia and I set up my tent near the sea. Don’t get too jealous, there was a busy railway next to my tent. So my sleep wasn’t nearly as recovering as you might expect. It is 11 PM when I set up my tent. This makes 12 hours of straight hitch hiking. Maximum waiting time: 4 Minutes.

My second day and my last lift in Georgia. It’s just another 30 km to the Turkish border. So far I have never waited for more than 5 minutes. Too good to be true, right?I guess god agrees and makes me wait 2 hours until someone brings me to the border control.It’s a busy border check. Hundreds of people are ‘lining‘ up. Hundreds of people are sweating and most of them are using their passport as a fan. It barely helps.

A scream halls through the building, a female scream. It sounds like someone gets killed. I can’t see what’s going on because the action happens behind a wall. People are shocked, confused and try to catch a glimpse. The screaming goes on. A woman in front of me turns around an looks at me. I can see the fear in her eyes. ‘Don’t fucking do it, don’t start a panic, there’s too many people around’ – she definitely didn’t understand a single world but I could calm her down somehow. The screaming stops.The weird feeling remains. Another 30 minutes and I’m in Turkey. I leave the border check and search for a shaded place. It’s time for a cigarette.

While I enjoy lowering my life expectation, I face a weird situation at the gate of a parking area. Looks like they don’t have enough money to pay the parking fee.I decide to help out. I offer them to pay. It’s 70 Cents.Ridiculous. The 2 Turkish guys offer me a lift in return. They will bring me 300 km straight to Trabzon and also invite me for lunch. I’am glad I helped.

Trabzon. Quite a boring city. The bad weather also contributed its part. I had a great host though. Abdulrahman from Africa offered me a place to recover. My first African host also shared one of his greatest worldly wisdom with me. ‘Catch the fish before the fish goes away’ – I don’t have anything to add.

It takes me 2 days to feel refreshed, 2 days to hit the road again. Another 700 km. Hitch hiking in Turkey works quite well in the beginning but I’ll get stuck after my 3rd lift. I’ll stand on the road for over 2 hours. The owner of a nearby cafe spots this and brings me tea and a snack. In general, people in Turkey love to invite you over and to offer food and tea. I have a great first impression of this country. My 4th lift is an English couple.Finally someone who speaks English! All the lifts I’ve talked about in this post had one thing in common. They either did not speak English at all or spoke just some basic words. This was actually the most exhausting part of this hitch hiking marathon.The language barrier.

My 5th and last lift for this day. My first huge truck! I am excited when he pulls over. The excitement turns into fatigue quite fast. We will need 3 hours for 80 km because the road leads over different hills. And apparently huge trucks are quite slow when it comes to hilly roads. The sun is slowly going down and I didn’t even make half of my planed distance. Well, there’s only one thing to do. I accept my fate and join Hasan for a tea.

Hasan drops me off at the highway entrance at 8 pm. It’s dark already so I decide to search for a camping spot in this area. I change my mind pretty fast. I can hear dogs barking from all directions, street dogs. I am not afraid of someone mugging me at night while sleeping in the middle of nowhere, but street dogs can be bloody dangerous. So I walk, I walk on the highway at night for another 6 km. Back in Germany the radio channels usually give some updates about the traffic situation. Sometimes they said ‘be careful, there are people on the highway’ – So far my reaction was like ‘What the fuck is wrong with these guys, why would you walk on a highway?’ – My reaction will never be the same again.

I set up my tent at another highway entrance, another night near the road, another relentless night. It was a bad decision to get into this truck, right?If you read my last post you might know that bad decisions sometimes turn into good ones. On this Wednesday morning I’ll start hitch hiking on one of the worst spots I’ve ever stood on. And the first car will stop. A Russian couple who gives me a straight lift to Kayseri. A straight 400 km lift.

This was the first part of ‘my way back home’. Long days, but amazing lifts. I’ve met many generous people, had some good laughs, some tasty ice cream and I’ve had my first lift in a truck. It’s another 3000 km to my home, but I can already feel how I get closer. I am ready and I’m excited about the last stage of my East-Europe journey. But first, I am going to attend a Muslim wedding tonight and climb a 4000 meter mountain tomorrow. Wait what? Don’t worry, I’ll tell you about this next time.